


Burning Your Eyes in the Sun

by Jacynon



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Emetophobia, Established Relationship, F/F, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Post-Canon, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 10:02:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13408896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacynon/pseuds/Jacynon
Summary: Laying on the floor is a bottle of acetaminophen, half-empty and opened for the white pills to adorn the carpet, and Tenko's regret about not taking Angie to the hospital only increases. But there's nothing she can do about that now.





	Burning Your Eyes in the Sun

**Author's Note:**

> I've been in a sort of depressive funk during the entire time of writing this so if it turns out to be. well, weird. that's mainly why. outside of the obvious one (the song this fic was named after by Ace Enders) I listened to Dramamine by Modest Mouse a lot.
> 
> regardless, I hope you enjoy this.

Living with both Himiko _and_ Angie has made Tenko's life a seemingly never-ending cascade of uncertain tension.

That's not to say Tenko regrets their living arrangement. Not at all. Being able to latch herself to the side of Himiko in a way that's now undeniably reciprocated, being able to see Himiko grow as a person and express herself in ways that Tenko had never seen before when they'd first met each other, is more than worth the journey of accepting Angie's permanent involvement in their lives. Angie is a fixture that adorns the background of every scene that each day paints.

And that's alright.

It's something Tenko's okay with.

"I wonder how many colors the sky can turn," is something Angie says to no one in particular, and that's okay, too.

It's a routine by now.

The three sit atop the roof of their apartment and stare at both the sunrise and the sunset, together. They achieve a type of unity that, at least from Tenko's perspective, they're never able to experience at any other time. Tenko sits in the middle, the other two on either side of her, all of them with their fingers intertwined. They might not always sit in that order every day, but the times in which Tenko can hold Angie's hand are the ones she tends to remember the most.

Angie is the outlier in their little group, the piece of the puzzle that _technically_ fits but which has something inexplicably off about it, like it's an imposter taking another piece's place. It's taken time to accept it, but Tenko believes she'll never really be able to understand Angie, at least not in the way that Himiko pretends she does.

Watching them interact is odd, if only because Tenko doesn't know how to properly describe it. They're similar in many ways. Yet there's an unmitigated, unreal aspect to Angie that makes all the difference.

In a way that only Tenko seems to fully acknowledge, Angie is distant.

There's something ethereal about her. Like she's not real, but instead _hyperreal_. There's almost a glow about her that seems so clearly synthetic that it wraps back around to being sincere. Something about her behaviors seems so out-of-touch with reality that it gives a level of perceived authenticity. Her self-proclaimed title of oracle makes this feel undeniably intentional, like she's trying to give off the illusion of being aloof, but where her self-awareness lies is the one question that Tenko has never once been able to answer with certainty or confidence.

What was Angie even _like_ before they were given new personalities and sent off into the killing game? Where does the fake person end and the real person begin?

It's been easy from day one to figure out that Himiko's ability to deny reality and let the world pass her by was hiding someone who wants to let her feelings be known and understood. Tenko could see Himiko's deep desire to make connections with others, the desire she was keeping herself from fulfilling the entire time.

But Angie doesn't seem to _have_ that desire. She is a purposeful outsider, utterly content with going about her life alongside a worldview that shuts her out from anyone else.

It's a mindset that goes completely against the fundamentals of Neo-Akido, or even Akido in general, and Tenko reasons that that's probably the biggest reason she's never been able to fully trust Angie.

But just how fair is that?

Sure, Tenko doesn't understand Angie at all, but has she really ever _tried_ to?

The instinctive answer is that _of course_ she's tried, _of course_. If anything, Tenko probably understands Angie better than almost anyone else, able to see her self-blinding intentions for what they really are despite Tenko's inability to work out just how aware Angie is of said intentions. And it's probably that limbo of both understanding and not understanding that Tenko's stuck in which makes their relationship so uncertain as it is. Tenko makes assumptions, Angie refuses to open up, and Tenko makes _more_ assumptions. Rinse and repeat ad nauseum.

It's a one-sided frustration, she knows.

As the sun fully creeps up from behind the mountains, Tenko tries to make sense of her life.

Angie's hand is...cold.

* * *

It, of course, has to be a time that Himiko's out visiting a few of their other _"classmates"_ that Tenko realizes they're out of food.

Maybe it's the fact that Tenko was never quite so close to the others that she doesn't stake much of her current life around theirs. Sure, she definitely appreciates the other girls that were in the killing game for who they were and what they did, to varying degrees - and she'd even developed what she might call a genuine friendship with Shuuichi, against all odds - but Tenko still thinks of herself as something of an outcast. By choice, of course. It's not like anything's stopping her from accompanying Himiko every time the smaller girl goes out to socialize.

But the sole fact that Himiko is making that sort of effort, the fact that she's gained these kinds of friendships over time, is more than enough for Tenko. Tenko's never thought of herself as being particularly high maintenance, after all.

It's in that respect that she finds herself relating to Angie - another person who's willfully isolated herself from the others - and she starts wondering how comfortable she really is with that realization.

Even now, while looking back on the brief time that the Student Council was a force in the killing game, it's hard for Tenko to figure out how much of Angie's leadership was pushed of her conscious volition and how much was simply assumed based on how everyone else reacted to her and relied on her. Tenko's obviously the last person who would want to excuse Angie's actions, but knowing now that the majority of what they did during the killing game was evidently planned makes the situation a bit muddled.

Which is why she can turn to Angie as the blonde messes around with a pile of clay on their dining table and say, "We've gotta go grocery shopping."

Angie takes the clay with her when they leave the house.

Because of course she does.

Though it's not too difficult to get along with Angie now, Tenko doesn't feel like spending too long in a shopping center with the girl is her idea of a good time. "U - Um, let's split up," she suggests, splitting the list she'd written on their way there down the middle and handing it over to the still preoccupied artist. "We'll be able to get this over with more quickly if you take half the list and I take the other half."

"Oh, good idea!" Angie's clay-covered fingers smudge the paper and she shoves the indeterminable shape in the pocket of her yellow over-shirt.

After agreeing to meet outside once they're both finished, they go their separate ways.

It's likely best to look at things from a more positive perspective, so Tenko at least recognizes that it doesn't take nearly as long as grocery shopping normally does when she splits up the work. She's the one who's usually gotten them food and while she might have preferred Himiko as a shopping assistant, she knows that without Angie she wouldn't be able to focus on only getting her own half. Not having to carry all the bags home also sounds like a good deal. She makes a mental note to ask Angie for help again next time they need to go shopping.

She tries to ignore the stares she gets from the people who pass her.

At first, getting recognized in public made her feel like a celebrity. But the novelty of the idea has more than worn off over time.

"Hey," a woman - _thank God_ \- puts her hand on Tenko's shoulder with stars in her eyes. "You were in _DanganRonpa_ , weren't you?"

Tenko has no idea how to respond. She barely even registers what the woman looks like before she starts thinking of ways to get out of the situation.

So, instead, she rushes out of the isle without a second thought.

It feels almost like a blessing when she's finally able to check out and escape the store, only noticing once she's gotten fresh air just how stuffy and suffocating it was getting in there. Contextualizing the descent her opinion of the world around her has taken is almost impossible without dwelling on the problem of _who she is_ , and that's not the type of midday crisis she's ready to have until she's at least at home.

But when she finally takes a moment to gather her bearings and look around, once the adrenaline has subsided and she realizes she's been standing in the same spot near the store's entrance for the better part of five minutes, the bags weigh down her shoulders alongside the increasing worry in her gut.

Is Angie just taking a bit longer than normal?

Well, Tenko reasons that she gave herself the half of the list that would have required the most running around, so she can't see why that would be correct. In that case, were they not clear on exactly where to meet? That seems much more likely.

So, she decides on scoping the edges of the building, hoping to not have to go very far before running into Angie. Maybe the artist just got lost in the market, despite how childish that sounds even for Angie, or maybe she took a detour and wanted to pick something up that wasn't on the list.

Her speculating doesn't last very long.

The scene that greets Tenko when she turns the corner of the store knocks the breath right out of her.

Tenko only understands what's going on in vague flashes. Angie's doubled-over body, plastic bags forgotten on the sidewalk next to her as she holds her bleeding head and looks on in a blank, mild surprise. A couple of boys just a few feet away, staring at her indignantly like they've just encountered a wild animal and had to fend off its insatiable hunger, and Tenko wonders through gritted teeth what's transpired here.

It doesn't take much observation to see that one of them had pushed Angie into the pavement, the same red that's dripping from a wound on the girl's forehead evident spattered on the ground like a vibrant paint.

From the looks of it, it must _hurt_.

The blonde holds the gash, as if her fingers can do anything to stop the flow of blood from seeping out and tainting her otherwise perfect image. But she looks up at it like it's a minor inconvenience, a small hindrance, instead of a real threat. Her demeanor is nonchalant in a way that makes Tenko feel sick and confused. Everything feels _wrong, wrong, wrong_ , and she's not sure how to react with anything other than anger.

Not far from them is Angie's over-shirt, ripped and torn up, the clay shape now crushed into a malformed, grayish paste.

All Tenko can see is red.

Her furious expression must catch the attention of the two boys, because one of them raises his hands in instinctive defensiveness.

"W - Wait, hang on, it's not our fault," he rushes to make excuses for himself, excuses that Tenko has no interest in listening to. "She's that evil chick from that latest season of _DanganRonpa_ , right? She just came up behind us! Y - You can't blame me for gettin' caught off-guard, alright?"

To his side, yet another young teen looks at Tenko like she's just sprouted a second head, as if he _isn't_ a complicit witness to the crime. _Men,_ she thinks distastefully. "Wait, who's that?"

"Fuck, dude - it's that martial arts girl."

Tenko doesn't even get the chance to correct him.

"What? Are you serious? I thought you said you only saw the cult leader bitch!"

The other boy pushes his apparent friend. "I did! Come on, let's get the hell outta here."

"Hey!" Tenko screeches after them as they run away. The bags drop from her hand and she makes a move to grab them before they slip right from her fingers. She doesn't give a moment's notice to the bystanders or the family that seems to be carefully eying the situation from a distance. "Get back here!"

If it were only her, she wouldn't hesitate to go running after the two of them and give them a piece of her mind - read: beat the _shit_ out of them - but Angie's shifting figure makes Tenko stop dead on her tracks and makes her mind slow to a halt. Suddenly, all pretense of who Angie might be to Tenko disappears and she becomes exactly what she is in this situation - a victim of an attack. Tenko rushes to her side.

Her hands reach around to rest on Angie's shoulders and her voice reduces to a panicked whisper, as if she's talking to a fearful child. "Oh, no," her tone cracks, mind swimming in dread. "No, come on - are you okay?"

"Angie's fine," the words are repeated and ring in Tenko's ears, pushing and pulling at her stomach, because that's not the _right_ answer. She'd asked Angie if she's okay, but it's clear that she's not. "Angie's fine."

This insistence sets Tenko off, because she doesn't know where to aim her anger at.

With a strain in her voice, Tenko yells and demands, "Is that smile just stitched on your face, or something?"

There's a small falter in Angie's facial expression, a tiny crack in the facade, and Tenko has to remind herself that Angie _isn't_ the problem here. More than that, Angie is the victim, blood still running down her face, and Tenko doesn't have much of a right to be getting angry at her for doing what she does best and grinning in the face of the terrible. There's more than enough time to chide her later for not expressing her feelings, but for now, Tenko should probably be making sure that Angie _doesn't die_ or something.

She reaches to pick up the plastic bags laying on the sidewalk and spilling into the empty street, trying her best to gather the groceries in a timely fashion, and she shifts her attention back to Angie. "Let's go. We've gotta go home," she tries to be gentle about it, but she grips Angie's arm and pulls them both up, trying her best to support the blonde on the walk back.

While Angie isn't exactly fighting her on the way, she definitely doesn't do much to help Tenko help her.

Even when Tenko fumbles for the keys to their apartment, Angie stays silent and motionless right up until the moment that they're both inside and both sat on the couch.

Should Tenko have taken her to the hospital? Maybe it's not too late. Looking at it now, the the cut seems a lot more serious than it had before in the heat of the moment. And even then, the red shook Tenko up more than she'd expected it might have. Maybe it's the fact that the last time she'd seen blood was - _well_. The point is that she still isn't processing it to the fullest that she should be.

She doesn't realize how dry her mouth is until she goes to speak, then coughs and has to clear her throat. "Um, I'm gonna need to put the groceries away now, but after that - "

"Angie will take care of it!" at the sudden interruption, Tenko jumps. The blonde gives a wide grin and continues to rub ferociously at the wound in a way that _has_ to be even more painful than if she were to just leave it alone. She rushes to the direction of the bathroom before Tenko can say or do anything about it and calls out as she walks. "Tenko should do what she needs to do, Angie can take care of herself."

The end of that sentence is muffled as she shuts the door.

Then, the sound of running water fills the walls around Tenko.

Her worry permeates even as she finishes up putting away the groceries and the water has long since stopped. The urge to check up on Angie, the need to make sure Angie is alright and at least still on the spectrum of _decidedly-not-dead_ , sticks itself in the back of her mind.

After having made herself lunch and cleaned everything up for the approaching evening, Tenko thinks a bath would do her good right about now. It's been almost an hour at this point since the two of them arrived home and since Angie made a break for the bathroom, so the logical conclusion is that she's already taken care of the head injury and hopefully headed on to bed to recover.

Except, once Tenko reaches the hall, she notices the door still shut and the light still shining.

Part of her is ready to believe that Angie had just accidentally left the switch on and had closed the door when she'd left, but instead of trying for the doorknob, Tenko presses her ear up against the slight seam and listens for a sign of movement.

Through the thin wood is violent retching and heaving.

Anxiety and disgust crawl into Tenko's gut. She instinctively knocks on the door and calls out, "A - Angie? Are you there?"

Suddenly, the noises stop, and they're replaced with what's undoubtedly heavy breathing.

A few seconds pass, but they're quickly replaced with the sound of scuffling and rattling, noises that Tenko recognizes in isolation but can't identify and make sense of when put together. She takes a few steps back as Angie seems to move toward the door and unceremoniously opens it wide. As always, her face is stuck with a content smile, despite the fact that the color's all but drained from it. "Oh! Did you need in here? That's Angie's bad."

At the very least, the gash seems to have stopped bleeding, though she hasn't seemed to have done anything other than wash it out. Angie doesn't give Tenko enough time to question her about it.

Tenko wants to reach out to the blonde, to stop her as she stumbles to her room, but she's frozen in place.

It's only then that Himiko sends Tenko a text saying she'll be staying the night at Maki's.

Tenko has a hard time telling whether that's good luck or bad luck.

* * *

The time without Himiko sends them into a silence felt so deeply that it almost feels etched into the very fabric of reality. A serene empty void that can only be described as relaxing yet uncomfortable.

It becomes apparent that while Angie _can_ take care of herself, she seems to often actively choose not to.

Well, that's not an entirely fair observation.

It's just that she doesn't help herself in _effective_ ways.

Having brought a couple of bottles of water - one for her and one for Angie - into the room with her, Tenko tries and fails to locate the blonde.

While it isn't the first time Tenko's been in Angie's room, she doesn't seem to know how to navigate through it at all, what with everything that's strewn about. Art projects, supplies, the works of what Tenko can't make sense of without sitting down and analyzing it all are bombarding her every line of vision. Laying on the floor is a bottle of acetaminophen, half-empty and opened for the white pills to adorn the carpet, and Tenko's regret about not taking Angie to the hospital only increases. But there's nothing she can do about that now.

She picks the bottle up. Now that she notices, she can't seem to shake her headache.

Tenko takes two and it's the kind of pill that just won't let itself be swallowed easy, the kind that leaves a lingering taste and a lump in her throat which doesn't go away even after she's inhaled her bottle of water to its end. The second pill, of course, has to be the worst one going down.

Tenko is a smart girl. She can put two and two together.

She makes a connection between the pills and the throwing up she's heard all throughout the evening and thinks awkwardly that at least the pills are unlikely to all still be in Angie's system, if any are.

The sliding door to the closet is left ajar, which indicates only one thing. It's a place that Angie's been found more times than one might expect, a place she's claimed to be dark and devoid of concerns, which Tenko can sort of understand in a sense, considering it's empty and completely unused. And Tenko's suspicions are confirmed when she opens it and finds Angie lying on the floor of said walk-in closet with a far-away expression.

Tenko stares down at her, tight-lipped.

"You abuse these pain-killers and they won't do you much good," she states, feeling every part the hypocrite she knows she is.

"Come on, now! They help," no hesitation in her movements, no negative reactions at all evident in her eyes, and she brings a finger up to stick in the open wound on the side of her head, and she _twists_ hard to a point that makes Tenko cringe in dazed horror. All the while, she makes eye contact with the other girl, making the entire ordeal feel a level of grossly intimate. "I can't even feel this. See?"

Even ignoring the action itself, if Angie is referring to herself in the first-person, Tenko can only imagine how out of it she must be.

Her headache only seems to get worse as she leans down and takes Angie by the arm, pulling her upward in a way that almost mirrors how they were on the street, though Tenko knows she's being much more forceful this time around. "Get up. Come on, get up, okay?"

And Angie doesn't put up much of a fight.

* * *

Tenko takes it upon herself to wash out the dirt and dried blood from Angie's hair, since the girl clearly isn't interested in doing it on her own.

It's only as they're taking a bath together that Tenko begins to realize just how small Angie really is. Of _course_ Tenko would be much larger, considering how long it's taken her to get her body into a healthy routine and develop a disciplined training regimen, but something about the way Angie is built screams more of malnourishment than of how a given teenage girl _should_ look. But Tenko isn't one to be making those kinds of judgements or assumptions about someone without substantial evidence.

They're still drying off when Angie sits on a chair in the still cloudy and hot bathroom and Tenko stands behind her, staring at the smaller girl as her arms dangle at her sides and her eyes flutter, like she's going in and out of consciousness even without lying down or really sleeping.

Like her existence is flickering.

"I don't understand why you didn't bandage this," and Tenko does the work of bandaging it herself as she says this, the white cloth wrapping around Angie's head. She's lucky they have basic first-aid stored in the bathroom because she's worried that if she takes one look away from Angie, the blonde will drop dead. Not _literally_ , but still. That's how it feels. "What were you thinking?"

Really, Tenko's not sure what she's expecting by chiding Angie. It's not like doing so has garnered her anything but further frustration in the past.

Somehow, Angie brings herself to lazily answer, a hand moving up to rub at her eye in a way so heavy she looks as if she's controlling her body from a distance. "You know, you know? I was just going to pray for my healthy recovery to God."

She knows better deep down, but Tenko can't help taking the bait. "And what the hell is praying gonna do, huh? If this gets infected and you die, what'll you think of _God_?"

"It would be my time, then," Angie responds immediately, like it's a question she's been prepared to answer her whole life, or like it's one she's already answered multiple times before. What did she think when she'd died in the game? Was she this accepting of it? Even though it's a mindset that Tenko can't even begin to empathize with, there's something so genuine about Angie's conviction. "And the same can be said about your Neo-Akido, right? Your belief in that hasn't stopped you from getting hurt before, right? Right? Or, your belief in Himiko."

Tenko's jaw drops open.

Her movements halt and she immediately starts sputtering.

Finally, she raises her voice and firmly speaks, cutting off and putting away the excess bandages before making eye contact with Angie in the mirror. "That's not...it's not the same thing. That's definitely not the same thing. That doesn't even have anything to do with this."

Glazed over and unfocused, Angie cocks her head to the side.

"Huh? But, but, you and Angie both _believe_ very strongly, isn't that right? Faith helps you both in times that you need it, even when it might get you or others hurt in the end, so how can you say that it is different?" her head moves back and forth between leaning on her two shoulders and she starts swaying from side to side. If anything, she seems to be having fun, despite how dizzy she's making herself. "Is it because of where those beliefs come from? Why, you're naïve, Tenko!"

It's sort of infuriating to be called naïve by Angie, of all people. But it's even more infuriating to be told that their ways of thinking are remotely similar.

The fact that the comparisons make more sense the more she thinks about them is what really gets to her. Tenko is no stranger to blind faith, even when it's in something that might not be great for her well-being in the long run, and she can sort of see why someone who's so devoted to a higher power might run with that in the worst way possible when they end up getting hurt. Tenko shakes her head. The fact that she can start empathizing with Angie just means that the both of them need to get some rest as soon as possible.

Her hands shake as she reaches to open the towel rack, only to find something surprising sitting just to the right of the folded cloth.

Three robes of varying colors stacked on top of each other.

Even after using the process of elimination, Tenko can hardly believe it.

"D - Did Yumeno get individual robes for all three of us?" Tenko hugs the blue one, clearly meant for her, and feels tears well up in her eyes. "She's so adorable and thoughtful."

She takes herself out of the moment before she can become totally lost in it, taking the yellow one and handing it to Angie, whose movements are a bit slowed. While the two of them are mostly dried by now, the robes are comfortable enough that they simply exit the bathroom with their dirty clothes thrown into the laundry basket and forgotten. Tenko stares back at Angie, who leans against the frame of the doorway like it's a lifeline she's clinging onto.

Even though Tenko did what she could to cover up the cut on Angie's forehead, it's not like she has medical training, or anything. So, she has quite a bit of a hard time keeping her eye off the girl. Like she's worried Angie will spontaneously shatter into a million pieces while she isn't looking.

Giving a cute yawn, the blonde runs a hand through her hair, clearly taking care not to mess up Tenko's handiwork. "Angie should sleep."

"Let me make us some tea first and get us something to eat," the taller girl responds, leading Angie by the wrist to the dining room, even though she was originally planning on sending them both to bed at the earliest opportunity.

When the blonde is sat down on one of the wooden chairs, it becomes apparent how labored her breathing is. In all honesty, Tenko mostly doesn't want Angie to fall asleep without getting something in her system, worried that going without food would just make it all the worse. Still, she seems to be doing well, all things considered. Tenko tries to grab something light, cutting up some pre-made sandwiches and steeping a pot of black tea, and Angie rests her head on the table in her periphery.

Feeling a moment of alarm, Tenko scrambles in her mind for a topic.

"That was really messed up," she states firmly as she moves to sit across from Angie, setting the food between them. Her brows furrow and she pulls at her own hair. "Just...all of it was so - I - I don't even know how to describe it! I'm so mad, and I just don't know what to do about it."

Not hesitating to scarf down what's been put in front of her, the blonde doesn't seem to give the words much thought.

And just as Tenko is about to feel bad for the girl and how obvious it is how little food she usually gets on a daily basis, Angie of course ruins it by opening her mouth. She hums and licks her lips. "Angie hasn't taken any more pills."

All Tenko can feel for a moment is confusion.

It takes a moment to realize that Angie's missing the point entirely of what she's trying to get at.

"Wha - that's not what I'm talking about," feeling her agitation build, Tenko stands from her chair and stares down at the perpetually smiling face of the most frustrating person she's ever met in her life. Now more than ever, the thought that she can't comprehend what Angie's thinking is all that's on Tenko's mind. "Aren't you upset that those men attacked you? They called you _evil_ \- they said you were a _cult leader_ \- aren't you angry about that? Come on, you have to be at least a _little_ mad!"

 _Angie_ and _angry_ don't seem to be words that have a place on the same plane of existence.

"But, is it not true?"

Feeling her irritation turn to desperation, Tenko falls back into her chair and it tilts back for a moment before settling. "T - True?"

Like she's fully convinced of the fact, Angie nods enthusiastically. "That's what Tenko believes, too, isn't it?"

Not for the first time while interacting with Angie, Tenko feels utterly dumbfounded.

There's something sad about how genuine that question is, while simultaneously being awfully enraging. Here Angie is, making assumptions about how Tenko feels in regards to her, and it's the very first time that Tenko can register some sort of insecurity within Angie. She's absolutely under the impression that the people around her think the worst of her and she's not just _okay_ with that, she also _expects_ it.

That's something Tenko just can't wrap her brain around, no matter how hard she tries.

And because she doesn't know how to be other than reactionary, she does what she knows how to and vents aimlessly. "You...God, you have _no_ idea how infuriating you are!"

"I thought you didn't believe in - "

"Ugh, stop," knowing where she's going with that, Tenko interrupts her with a raised hand. Her tone levels out and she gives a heavy sigh. "I don't think you're evil! I don't. Maybe I haven't been the _best_ at showing I don't, but it's the truth. I just...want you to feel things, and to be okay with feeling things, y'know?"

Maybe it's a little more complex than that. Tenko wants to be able to trust Angie, but she knows she won't be able to if the girl is so constantly closed-off. It's not just a desire to get more of Himiko's approval that makes Tenko want to reach out to Angie, though she'll admit that this autonomous urge is something that's grown over time. She wants to understand Angie, to make it so Angie can acknowledge the importance of making connections with others and _being_ understood.

She...wants Angie to be okay.

An uncertainty plagues her, one that questions just how long she's felt this way, but she comes to the conclusion that the answer to that doesn't really matter.

Angie stares into Tenko's eyes blankly, trying to figure something out for herself that's likely only ever going to be known to her alone, before something catches her attention in the corner of her vision. "Oh," her soft voice chimes through the air and she directs Tenko's own stare to the window. Orange and blue reflect in her gray, cloudy sight. "We forgot about the sunset."

A brief glance out the window confirms those words.

Tenko recalls Himiko's text and shrugs carelessly. "Well, Himiko isn't going to be home tonight. It's not like it'd be the same without her."

"That's true. It won't be the same," for what feels like the first time, Angie looks to Tenko and seems to be seeking some level of approval. "Is that alright?"

Tenko sees Angie's hand resting upon the table and, while the two of them stare at the darkening sky outside their window, she wraps their fingers together.

True understanding might never be reached between the two.

But this little bit of progress, though it may seem inconsequential, means the world to Tenko. She knows they share something that's unique only to them, even if it's something she struggles to put into words and might not ever be able to articulate in a satisfying way. Angie's hand is still cold, but there's an unmistakeable warmth in the melancholy gaze they share before they go back to focusing on the sun. They watch the light disappear from the sky as a new one is birthed within the both of them.

So, Tenko responds. "Yeah, that's alright."


End file.
